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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26051851">Your Colors</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallidiotbug/pseuds/smallidiotbug'>smallidiotbug</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (Movies - Muschietti)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drummer richie tozier, M/M, Orchestra, Richie Tozier is Whipped, eddie kaspbrak plays violin, violinist Eddie kaspbrak</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 02:48:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>809</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26051851</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallidiotbug/pseuds/smallidiotbug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“You should play me something, Eds!” </p><p>“That isn’t my name.” </p><p>“Then what is, Eds?” </p><p>“You can call me Eddie. And I can play you… something.” He replied as he moved his chair to give himself space.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Your Colors</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Twitter user @mossy_mouse_ drew Eddie playing the violin, so I wrote this.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>Eddie brushed his blazer off, grabbing his things and headed out. The man got to the car and opened up his violin case, making sure he had everything with him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>On his way there, he went over the music in his head. Eddie was a quite famous violinist, feeling as if the violin was the only thing he could really pour his heart out into. </p>
<p>Richie, however, was part of the percussion, way in the back so he wouldn’t be disrupting the string section. He was careful when he played the drums and perfectly on time, yet he lacked obedience and attentiveness. </p>
<p>Eddie pulled in and got out, taking his case and walking into the hall. He settled down on the first chair, lathering up his bow with rosin, then fine tuned his strings. </p>
<p>“Hey! Edward Kaspbrak, early as ever!” A voice came from the back, then a loud <em> bang </em>from a nearby drum, which made Eddie flinch. He turned and shot a glare at the man. </p>
<p>“Who are you again?” The violinist interrogated the man, eyes like daggers. </p>
<p>“<em> Ouch </em>!! Name’s Richie, I play drums.” He explained, trying not to move the chairs too much as he walked to Eddie. </p>
<p>“Which ones?” Eddie asked as he turned back around, getting out his music sheets to place on the stand. </p>
<p>“Timpani.” Richie finally made it, scooting the other music stands away so he could sit. Eddie masked a smile, noticing how big richie looked in this section, he definitely wasn’t made for being in the front.</p>
<p>“It’s nice to meet you-“ </p>
<p>“Why are you here thirty minutes early?” Richie grinned. </p>
<p>Eddie’s glare returned, and he looked at the empty seats. “To warm up.” </p>
<p>Richie rose a brow, “oh-“ </p>
<p>“What about you? Why are you here?” Eddie shot back, cutting Richie off just as he’d done before. </p>
<p>Richie laughed, taking that as the violinists payback. “To clean up a little, that’s all…” </p>
<p>Eddie stared at the man, and Richie shrunk in his gaze. </p>
<p>“I lied. You’re right- I don’t have a car, since it’s being fixed right now, and my friend Ben could only take me now.” He gulped and watched him. </p>
<p>Eddie, pleased with the honesty, turned back to his violin. “Alright. I understand.” </p>
<p>“You should play me something, Eds!” </p>
<p>“That isn’t my name.” </p>
<p>“Then what is, Eds?” </p>
<p>“You can call me Eddie. And I can play you… <em> something </em>.” He replied as he moved his chair to give himself space. </p>
<p>Eddie took in a deep breath, playing <em> Après un Rêve, Op. 7, No. 1 </em>. Eddie seemed to open up like a book as he played, closing his eyes. </p>
<p>Richie looked on, seeing Eddie’s face change and contort. The song seemed so <em> sad </em>, and Eddie seemed saddened just to play it. </p>
<p>Richie swallowed, letting the violinist take the stage. He took the whole <em> theatre </em>, music bouncing off the walls delicately, as if there wasn’t anything better in the world. </p>
<p>Eddie finished the song, taking in a deep breath. He looked over at the other and gave a smile.</p>
<p>“That was so blue… and green.” Richie breathed. </p>
<p>Eddie hummed and looked down, shifting his weight. “What do you mean?” </p>
<p>“Oh… I have synesthesia, it means I can see colors when people play music…” Richie explained. </p>
<p>“Blue is associated with sadness, so you must have thought the song was upsetting.” Eddie replied, not seeming as fascinated as he truly was. </p>
<p>“Mh.” Richie gave a nod. “Why don’t you play something yellow?” He asked, giving a smile. </p>
<p>Eddie chuckled, nodding. He began to think of a song, soon picking his violin back up to fit it in its place. Eddie began to play, this time with a quiet smile on his lips. </p>
<p>Pink sprung out from the music, from Eddie’s hands, from his whole body. Richie watched as Eddie played, hands kind with the bow and sharp on the strings. He grinned at the others' performance, listening to it all as he played. </p>
<p>Eddie could make anything sound like a gift. Atleast, that is what Richie thought. </p>
<p>Eddie finished the song, and it all seemed so shorter now that it was over. </p>
<p>“Wow… what was that?” Richie breathed. </p>
<p>“Souvenir d'un lieu cher Op. 42. It means <em> memory of a dear place </em>.” Eddie replied, “now. You tell me what color you saw.” </p>
<p>“Pink… like… brighter than the pink for a baby girl. And yellow, and oranges…” Richie explained. “It was beautiful. You play…” he gave a grand gesture at the man, like he was the greatest thing in the world. </p>
<p>Eddie smiled, cheeks tinting with pink. “Thank you, Richie.” He said kindly. </p>
<p>“Come with me!!! Or- oh- wait-“ the man's face lit up, and he laughed. “Let’s do something after rehearsal… if you’d like.” Richie grinned. </p>
<p><em> I’ll come with you anywhere </em> Eddie wanted to say. Instead, the violinist nodded. “Of course. We can decide after.” </p>
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